


Pent Up

by caprisunkiri



Series: Oh Captain, My Captain (The Daichi-Centric Series) [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Daddy Kink, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Married Life, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Phone Sex, Power Bottom, Power Bottom Takeda, Sex Toys, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28274514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caprisunkiri/pseuds/caprisunkiri
Summary: Daichi suppresses the urge to pout as he examines the small gold band sitting on his ring finger. Takeda. Another reminder that he’s spent enough time in China, another reminder that he needs to get the hell home. Four weeks, Daichi thinks. He’s been gone for four fucking weeks.Well. Two more to go.Daichi unceremoniously falls face-first into the hotel bed, inhaling the bleached linen and Glade air freshener. He kicks his shoes off lazily, content when he hears them hit the floor, and fiddles with his cuff links before his phone rings.He presses green without even looking, “Daichi speaking.”“Babe?”The noirette sits up, stark straight, “Takeda?”OR; When Daichi's been gone for too long, and both he and his husband are more than just "a little" pent up.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Takeda Ittetsu
Series: Oh Captain, My Captain (The Daichi-Centric Series) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034142
Kudos: 16





	Pent Up

**Author's Note:**

> I...shouldn't be using God's name in vain. Mm. Chile, anyway.
> 
> Here's your fucking filth.

Daichi sighs, jaw popping as he drops his heavy black leather briefcase onto the retro hotel carpet. Today’s meeting was long, _too long,_ and he’s in dire need of a solid nap—a nap, and maybe some of that coffee cake he had from the hotel lobby earlier.

Stumbling over to the curtains, the businessman rips them open, but only to be blinded by the afternoon egg yolk sun, hissing at the unpleasant way it hits his eyes before unbuttoning his black suit jacket. That’s all he’s seen today; men in black suits with black leather briefcases, looking equally as tired as he.

“Good lord,” hesighs (again), rubbing a hand over his face. He finds the contrast between his overheated skin and the cool metal of his wedding ring strangely satisfying.

Daichi suppresses the urge to pout as he examines the small gold band sitting on his ring finger. _Takeda._ Another reminder that he’s spent enough time in China, another reminder that he needs to get the hell home _._ Four weeks, Daichi thinks. He’s been gone for four fucking weeks.

Well. Two more to go.

Daichi unceremoniously falls face-first into the hotel bed, inhaling the bleached linen and Glade air freshener. He kicks his shoes off lazily, content when he hears them hit the floor, and fiddles with his cuff links before his phone rings. 

The noirette groans so loud he thinks he’s scared his neighbors next door (something fell, and _hard)_ before blindly groping through waves of white comforter for his six by four box. He prays it isn’t work-related. And it’s _always_ work-related.

He presses green without even looking, “Daichi speaking.”

“Babe?” ****

The businessman sits up, stark straight, “Takeda?”

“Hey,” his lover giggles on the other side of the phone, probably at the pure and utter shock in the businessman’s voice, “How have you been?”

“I…” Daichi swallows, “I thought you had work?”

“They sent us home today! Some kid got the flu,” Takeda cheers, which the noirette feels like he shouldn't be considering the situation, followed by feet pitter-pattering up the stairs.

Even though there’s only a one hour time difference between China and Japan, both Daichi and Takeda are two very busy people. Takeda works at a school and usually doesn’t return home until six, cooks dinner and cleans, and Daichi comes busting through the door around eight pm, exhausted and hangry. Now, he busts through the door to his hotel room exhausted and hangry and _alone,_ and somehow that addition makes it _so_ much worse.

“Okay,” Daichi hates the way his chest fucking _pounds_ like they haven’t been married for five years and dating for many more. But here he is, half-hard on in his dress pants like some middle schooler going through puberty. He takes a deep breath to calm the hell down; because maybe, just _maybe,_ he hasn’t gotten off in four weeks because he’s been too tied up with work. And maybe, just _maybe,_ he’s only starting to realize it now. Exhaling through his nose sharply, he mutters to himself, “… _Okay_.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the phone, and then, “Is this a bad time? Because I ca—“

“No!” Daichi pulls himself back, the amount of _fear_ that line struck in him should be worrisome, but he’ll stress about it later, “I—I mean, no, this—this time is fine.”

“Okay!” Takeda giggles and a door closes on his side of the line, “What’d you do today?”

Daichi hums in contemplation, trying his best to ignore the problemin his pants he prays will go away real soon, “Well…It’s not going to be very interesting.”

“It’s interesting if it’s you,” his lover says, and Daichi has to keep himself from groaning because yeah, he’s a little pent up, and it seems that his shy, bumbling mess of a husband has gained a slight mouth since he left.

Daichi huffs, leaning back against the pillow propped up against the headboard, “Alright, then. Um…I got up around nine and went downstairs for food. This place has fire coffee cake, but the scones are really hard—my tooth still hurts.”

“Which hotel are you at again?”

“The Ritz Carlton.”

“Ooh fancy,” Takeda huffs a laugh, “Okay then. Continue.”

Daichi flushes at the authorization, cock filling out the remaining fabric of his pants, “...Where was I? Oh! After I ate, I had a few meetings back to back, but that's pretty much i—“

“What happens in the meetings?” Takeda asks breathily. He’s never asked that before. The noirette raises an eyebrow.

“Just boring stuff, I don’t thi—“

“Tell me.”

“U-Um, well,” Daichi glances down to his fully hard cock. _Fuck._ “We mostly talked about our progress with the company so far, an—“

A muffled _“fuck"_ comes through the phone and straight to Daichi’s dick, followed by a wet squelch and a rustle of the sheets. Alarms go off in Daichi’s head so loud his ears ring.

“Takeda, are you…?”

The older laughs through the phone, followed by a sharp inhale, “I’ve been caught, haven’t I?”

_“You think?”_

Takeda’s laughing harder now, and Daichi can practically see it painted on the ceiling: glasses balancing on the precipice of his nose, face and neck flushed cherry red with his eyes squeezed shut while flashing his pearly whites. “What are you,” Daichi clears the cotton out of his throat, “what are you using?”

“The glass one.”

“Fuck it,” the noirette snaps, like a twig under a shoe, unbuckling his belt so fast it hits the bone of his wrist (and hurts), before yanking down his fly and reaching under the band of his Calvin Kleins. He spits into his hand and wastes no time in wrapping his hand around his cock, biting his lip to his husband's whimpers, “Fucking—Takeda, I’m so fucking horny." 

“Cool because me too,” Takeda responds, the squelch of the glass dildo increasing as desperation leaks through like a wide-open faucet, “How long has it been since you…”

“L-Last, _fuck—“_ Daichi’s white-knuckling the sheets at this point, an unimpressive position to be in for someone his age, and his left thigh keeps tensing involuntarily, “Last time I saw you.”

Takeda keens on the other side, his pants falling in line with Daichi’s own. The glass dildo is a pretty aquamarine, always complementing Takeda’s milky white skin like gold. Daichi groans, imagining the dildo squeezing through that tight pink ring that hasn’t been touched in weeks.

_Fuck._ He’s probably so _fucking tight._

(Daichi quietly tightens his fist foraccuracy.)

“Shit,” Daichi curses when Takeda lets out an exceptionally lewd moan, followed by a thump, “You close already, baby?”

Takeda huffs a laugh, “Ha, it’s…been a while.”

Daichi grunts in response. He would be lying if he wasn’t close himself. The noirette hums, lets his chest rumble in the way he knows Takeda likes, before speaking up again, “Wait, stop.”

He can hear the pout through Takeda’s whine, “W-What _why—“_

“‘Cause,” Daichi slurs, hating how his attempt at cool and dominant gets overshadowed by the desperation clawing at his gut. “I wanna—wanna make this last.”

Takeda hums, probably folding his bottom lip under his incisors before exhaling slowly, “F-Fine— _fuck_.”

Daichi snorts at the other's struggle. His head lolls to the side, causing his phone to side down his arm, but he opts to put it on speaker instead. He should’ve done that from the beginning, “What—What’re you thinkin’ about?”

“W-Well,” There’s a pause, only filled with Takeda rustling around in the sheets for a bit, and then, “You.”

A fond smile slips its way past the noirette’s lips, “ _Specifics,_ baby.”

Takeda whines, feet thumping against the bed, “I hate you.”

“That doesn’t sound like a— _shit—_ a specific,” Daichi rips his hand off his cock before he gets too carried away, the pleasure between his legs edging towards too much. Goddammit. At this rate, he thinks he could cum to Takeda’s voice alone if it’s lewd enough.

The boy on the other side of the line gasps and Daichi imagines his hips rolling like they always do when he gets a little too worked up. When all he can do is roll his hips against Daichi’s own, trembling with overstimulation. There’s a click and jumpstart of a machine. Daichi’s ears perk up in confusion, but he has to grab the base of his cock to keep himself from cumming it hits him.

“Fucking hell,” he sits up, stark straight with a leg hanging over the edge of the bed as he breathes deep to keep himself from falling over the edge, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Takeda moans, and Daichi can tell every time the fucking machine fucks him just right—a toy reserved for business trips only. (Because why would Takeda need a fucking machine when he’s around?) His mind projects the image of his husband writhing in their white cloud-like sheets, red hot and trembling as he lays back and takes it. And _god,_ does Daichi want to _take_ _him._

Despite how _fucking close_ he is, Daichi’s right hand seems to have a mind of its own, wrenching his cock like his life depends on it. It feels like it does; his thighs are buzzing in the perfect way, the heat from his groin spreading like wildfire as his teeth grind and sweat rolls down his temple. Part of him knows he needs to reel it in, shut himself up before he gets a noise complaint, but the other half doesn’t really care. The other half is too focused on imagining Takeda’s warmth around him, flooding his senses with placebo scents and memories. And _G_ _od damn, he’s going to cum soon._

“Baby,” Daichi heaves, ignoring the drool threatening the corners of his mouth as his eyes flutter up at the ceiling, “Baby, please tell me you’re close. I’m gonna—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Takeda says in that gorgeous high-pitched and breathy voice that only shows itself when the city lights shine into outer space, and it feels like they're the only two awake, “I’m really fuckin—Daddy, _fuck,_ please let me cum I—“

“Cum baby,” is all Daichi manages to get out before his ears start to ring and his vision goes blurry, “Fuck, _fuck—“_

He comes with a growl through grit teeth, ropes of white flying all over his bedsheets, chest, and even his black suit pants. Well, those are ruined.

When his ears resurface fromunderwater, Takeda’s just as out of breath as he is, panting into the phone.

“…Holy shit,” his husband giggles after they both have time to catch their breath, “Holy…I came—“

“—So _fucking much,_ ” Daichi finishes, collapsing bonelessly against his bed. “Good _G_ _od,_ baby. I miss you.”

“I—stop,” Takeda squeaks out, probably burying his face in the pillow.

“Aw, c’mon,” Daichi teases, rolling over to his side despite the mess in his lap, “You know how mushy I get after sex.”

Takeda hums in supposed agreement, “I guess. You know, you should take me with you next time you’re gone this long. I’m miserable!”

Daichi snorts, rolling his eyes, “So that you can dump your responsibilities for two months?”

“Bingo!”

His husband cackles on the other side, voice fading as Daichi presumes he skips off to the bathroom. It doesn't take long for Takeda to come back, maybe two minutes, but he sounds fresh, chipper. Not as erotic as when he's laced with lust, but the businessman loves it all the same. 

"Hey, you," Takeda calls out. Daichi snorts, wondering if Takeda thought he left, "I love you." 

Daichi rolls his eyes but can't suppress the burn quickly rising to his cheeks—he's sure the ruddy color stretches to his chest. His heart still races like it did the day they met, and the butterflies return every time Takeda says his name. Daichi doesn't know if he'll ever get used to having Takeda around; six years, and it still feels like a dream. The businessman snorts, rubbing a hand over his face to remind himself that this _is_ real life. 

"Mm. I love you too." 

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on Wattpad @caprisunkiri if you want! I don't cross-post ;)


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